


In Between Days

by ofpensandquills (sarcasticnotsardonic)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Introspection, M/M, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:36:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticnotsardonic/pseuds/ofpensandquills
Summary: They’re the days that Magnus loathes the most. The ones he refers to as “in-between days.”They’re not terrible, nor are they fantastic.They’re simply in between.





	In Between Days

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for whatever...this is. Was feeling kinda down and well, needed a catharsis. Feel free to comment or leave kudos.

They’re the days that Magnus loathes the most. The ones he refers to as “in-between days.” 

They’re not terrible, nor are they fantastic.

They’re simply in between.

It was easier, of course, when he had his magic and then when he was the High Warlock. 

He had duties. Obligations. Portals to make. Potions to mix. Cabinet meetings. Gatherings with his fellow warlocks.

And there was also Pandemonium. He hasn’t been there in a while. It’s funny how things change. Not so much in an amusing way either. Just funny.

Before Alec, there were weeks where it felt like he _lived_ there. Not that Alec ever prevented him from going. 

He still makes the occasional appearance. Sometimes with Alec. He allows himself a small smile as an image of Alec dancing appears in his mind.

Alec is good at many a thing, but dancing? Bless his heart. He tries, but the man wouldn’t know a fox trot from a tango. But it’s fine. Magnus doesn’t care about that. Really.

It’s just that these were all pieces of a life he had before…

Before Asmodeus. 

Before the in between days went from once in a while to much more frequent.

The irony lies in the notion that Magnus was never a “the world is black and white” type of person. There were numerous shades and tones of gray. But when it came to emotions, he wanted it to be clearcut.

It’s either good or bad. Messy or clean.

Days that didn’t fit into those categories were exhausting. At least if he was having a shit day, Magnus could describe it. Point out _why_ it was so shitty.

Likewise, it was easy to explain the great days as well.

But in between ones were his worst enemy.

And so, he does what he’s been doing for years. Ignores them.

He goes for walks. Sometimes he walks to the Institute. Other times, he roams around the city.

When he’s home, he tries to distract himself with mundane chores, like organizing, for one.

It’s how he stumbles across an old notebook with spells. His first ones ever. They wouldn’t be winning any magic awards, but they were the ones he wrote once he managed to untangle himself from Asmodeus’ grip and banished him.

He runs his finger across the page. If he shuts his eyes, he can still feel some of the letters.

It hurts more than he could have ever imagined. Alec assures him that they’ll get his magic back. They _will_ if it’s the last thing they do. Emphasis on “they.”

He feels a slight pang. As much as he loves Alec, it’s still a bit jarring to think himself a “we.” It had been so long before Alexander.

Not that it didn’t feel right. It was more than right, but even for an old, centuries-wise warlock (er, former?) like Magnus, it took some adjusting.

No one had cared about his in-between days in a while. Well, actually, that’s a lie. He had Catarina. She cared. She would always care about Magnus.

And there were lovers who tried - and failed - to break Magnus’ walls. But Magnus had viewed them as temporary. As such, it just didn’t make sense for him to bare his soul, bruises and all, to anyone.

They weren’t going to stay anyway.

Not like Alec would.

And so, of course, Alec takes note of Magnus’ melancholy. Asks if there’s anything he can do to help.

Magnus shakes his head no every time.

It’s not like he’s on the brink of death. He’s just not jumping for joy.

Being in love isn’t a cure all, especially for someone like Magnus. Or rather…Magnus. He had more baggage than a Boeing 747. In many ways, he’s still reeling from everything as if it happened yesterday. 

So, he takes a drink. And then another. And then another. He drinks until he’s dizzy and stumbling, unable to make it to the bedroom. He collapses onto the couch and fades away into what will hopefully be a restful night.

When he wakens the next morning, he’s in his bed, Alec sleeping rightfully beside him. Suddenly, Magnus can’t remember a time when Alec _wasn’t_ there. But of course it existed.

He banishes those thoughts away as best he can and sidles up to his lover. His mouth hovers on Alec’s neck and his hands are, well, everywhere.

Alec lets out a moan and Magnus knows he’s awake. And _eager_.

Alec turns and envelopes Magnus in his arms and for a short time, at least, there is no in between. 

There’s just him and Alec.

But Magnus knows it won’t last. He’ll have other shitty days and other amazing ones. And then he’ll have more in betweens.

But he’ll survive.

He always does.


End file.
